Drowning
by Mr. Omelette
Summary: More than anything, it's the little things that happen everyday that counts. Drabble/Oneshot collection. Just things that tickles my fancy, really.
1. Harry 1

Chapter: _ONE_

Title: Harry

* * *

><p>He likes to think of his situation as breathing underwater.<p>

He feels the current surging through his body. The lack of air squeezes his lungs, almost choking him as he tries to swallow a cough. His sight, blurred by the water, is nothing but swirls of colors; hues of blues, grays, yellows and oranges.

He doesn't hear anything, really. _Nothing much_. And his heartbeat is louder than usual.

His mind goes blank as all he sees are muddled colors, and his breath leaves him with every passing second.

"Harry?"

He turns.

She's there, _always_ there, and he thinks he doesn't deserve her patience, her care and her _love_. It's no brainer, to be honest; Harry Potter believes that he doesn't deserve all the attention of Hermione Granger.

"Are you alright?" she asks. They're inside the common room, and it's really late. The fire's cracking in front of them and the population is reduced to a few.

She's worried again, and call him bad, but the thought that someone's actually worried about him – at least in her level – makes him feel… special.

"I'm fine." He smiles, grins really.

"Are you tired?" he notices that there were piles of books littering around them, and Harry vaguely remembers that they're studying. For Hermione's sake because tomor-today's a weekend.

He shakes his head 'no' but she could see through his façade, "Liar…" she laughs as she closes her books, and she cleans up their surroundings, "Let's get some rest."

His eyes lands on her hunched form. The first thing that comes to his mind is 'beautiful.' With her hair tangled into a loose bun, some of which were askew and flowing. Her brows were knitted in frustration, and he sees her trying to hold a yawn. Beautiful indeed.

She's done, piling up her books, and tomes, and grimoires. He does what he's always done, grabs the pile from her and offers to carry it for her, well, at least until they reach the girl's staircase.

"Thanks." She smiles, knowing full well that he won't let her be the one to carry her load. Called it his chivalrous streak.

They're walking now, and the scent of her shampoo ends up in the air. Something nutty and fruity and he finds it so… intoxicating and relaxing all at the same time.

"Harry?"

"Hm..?"

"Thanks." She whispers, and Harry realizes that they've reached their destination. Her hand brushes against his when she tries to take her pile of books, and Harry can't help but suppress the warmth it sends his body.

When she's gone, and he's left alone in the silent hallway, he thinks that just because it's like breathing underwater, doesn't mean it doesn't get better.

There's always a pair of insistent hands grabbing his arms, pulling him out of the water.

* * *

><p>DISCLAIMER: I do not own HP and it's universe.<p> 


	2. Luna

Chapter: _TWO_

Title: Luna

* * *

><p>There's something with the way how Luna's lying on the grass that makes Hermione wonder if there's something about today that's different.<p>

By now, _everyone's_ used to her quirks (especially since last week's discovery of snorkacks) and since she's a bona fide genius (ranking at the top 3% of her own generation) they just think of her as eccentric. And by now, Hermione respected her beliefs and logic, even if some were _a bit_ questionable.

Today however, Luna Lovegood is just… lying on the grass.

"What're we doing?" Hermione herself questions why she's interested.

"Stargazing." Luna drones with a sigh.

"Oh." Hermione gives her a look, looks up at the sky, then back at her friend.

"Neat." She plops over beside her, and observes the sky. "For the record, it's 3PM."

"I know."

"And the _sun_ is right above us." Hermione wonders why she's trying to be subtle to her. (No one's _that_ thick)

"The moon's right over there…" Luna points at the part of the cloudless sky where an almost full-moon is located.

"_Right_."

"Just because you can't see it, Hermione, doesn't mean it's not there." It's times like this that Hermione wonders if Luna's really insane. Or just really, really, REALLY smart. One who spouts sagely advices at the most impractical of situations.

"I don't know how to answer that." The brunette says honestly.

"Then just trust me."

Beside her, she could feel Hermione shrug.

* * *

><p>Neville was about to go visit the greenhouses when he sees Hermione and Luna lying in the grass.<p>

People are giving them weird looks, especially since they're doing it in the school grounds. But they're war heroes, so, whatever.

Walking over to them, and obstructing their views a little, he asks, "What we doing?"

"Stargazing." The two girls said in unison.

At this point, Neville doesn't bother to ask, because it's two most intelligent people of their generation, and no one _really_ questions them when they work together. Instead, he takes a seat, lies on the ground and observes the sky.

Star or starless, he doesn't bother asking. Asking is overrated anyway.

* * *

><p>It's when Harry's finding where his friends are that the silence between the three is broken.<p>

"There you guys are!" he exhales, catching his breathe. He's been reprimanded by three professors, five prefects and one Headmistress because he's running around the castle. Ironic because he's Head Boy.

He sees Hermione place a finger over her mouth.

Harry raises a brow.

"I don't think I want to know."

Neville shrugs and places his hands behind his head, "Stargazing."

Harry gives one look at the sky, the clouds, and the _sun_ before he squishes himself between Neville and Hermione, "Just move over."

Their heads bump each other, as Harry settles in, and Luna decides to ask something. "Why is the sky blue?"

Neville doesn't know and Harry shrugs.

"I think it is because some element reflects the sun's light and makes it blue. It has been awhile… I'll have to get back on my sciences to answer that properly." Hermione says, placing her books behind her head as a makeshift pillow.

Luna looks at her, "Really, Hermione?"

"Really."

"That's pretty neat! I've always asked that question, and no one really knew."

Hermione laughs, "Well then. You're welcome."

* * *

><p>It's when Susan Bones arrive and tell them that it's dinner that the four friends stand up from their positions.<p>

Luna nudges the Hufflepuff that she whispers "Even if they can't see it doesn't mean it's not there."

Susan looks at Harry and Hermione, their gazes, and their smiles, and the general aura that she sees what Luna's talking about. "Indeed."

"Guys!" Neville calls, "Are you coming?"


	3. Harry 2

CHAPTER _THREE_

Title: Harry

* * *

><p>"Do you trust me?"<p>

Flabbergasted, he stares at her extended hand.

Of course he does. In fact, he doesn't know anyone he could trust _more_; it's always gonna be her. Hermione Jane Granger. Through thick and thin.

_sigh..._

"I do." He makes a grab of her hand, and she leads the way.

Grudgingly, the two walk to the edge of the lake and jump in. Surprising, because Harry James Potter cannot swim. (fourth year doesn't count because gillyweed gives you the instinct to swim)

"Don't be afraid to lean on me, Harry." She says as she floats effortlessly. It's a conspiracy, really, because Hermione's doing it so effortlessly while he's left hanging on a particularly large rock as if his life depended on it.

"Relax, Harry." She says, placing a hand on his shoulder, "I won't let you drown." Slowly, she gently tugs him away from his rock.

He tries his best to relax, but the feeling of not having your feet feel anything makes it difficult. Plus, he liked to _see_ what he's kicking and the lake's water is anything but transparent. Not to mention there's the whole giant squid going on (even if Luna assured them that Mr. Thimble – squid's name – is harmless) and there's the fact that he could suffer from hypothermia or something.  
>(Well, Hermione came prepared, casting heating charms to fight against the cold, but still)<p>

She's smug, because the invincible Harry Potter – boy-who-lived, defeater-of-worst-dark-lord-ever, mister-perfect-extraordinaire – isn't so invincible after all.

He wanted to wipe that look off her face (honest!) but he's too afraid to do anything. And it's ironic because on a broom, he lets loose of all these inhibitions. Screw the person who equated flying with swimming.

"I'm trying." He manages to say with all of his teeth-chattering.

Hermione stops gliding and looks at him, "Are you okay?" There's a concerned look in her expression, and it makes him feel worse because he's being a complete dunce.

"I'm fine." He lies.

But to be completely, honest, he _wants_ to learn.

* * *

><p>Two hours later, and Harry's floating (albeit shakily) beside Hermione. The sky this weekend is cloudy, and the weather's not too freezing – actually it's warmer because of Hermione's heating charm. A few students had passed them by, some were even wondering why they're <em>swimming<em> in the lake.

Hermione, unperturbed by their looks, just gave them a simple answer; "We just felt like it." And everyone just left it at that. (He's thankful for that because Harry would probably want to bury himself in shame if knew the real reason)

"Hey," he whispers.

"Yes, Harry?"

"Why?"

She kicks, and her body dips in the water waist down, "Why what?"

"Why teach me?" he looks at her curiously.

She shrugs, "Why not?"

His smile is infectious and genuine, "Well, thanks."

"You're welcome, Harry."


	4. Lavender

CHAPTER _FOUR_

Title: Lavender

* * *

><p>Lavender Brown's waiting for her… well, Seamus.<p>

It's not that she's told herself that having _more than friendly_ feelings with housemates were bad, actually, it's that, but Seamus promised he'd wake up early just so they could finish this divination paper.

What's a divination paper got to do with romance then? _Everything_. It's the unspoken rule; when you're paired with a boy about a written report in divination, it's a sign that the guy you're paired with might be your significant other. (if not, a really close friend)

I know. Seven – _eight! _– years in this school, and you should think that divination's all rubbish. But it doesn't hurt to believe, right? Especially since she's pushing passed the 17th year of her life without ever being in a serious relationship.

Anyway, Lavender Brown's been waiting for a while now. She thinks she should pay him a visit (it's the girl's dormitory that doesn't permit the opposite sex, you know) but decides against it.

* * *

><p>Five minutes later, breakfast would soon be over, and her stomach is really grumbling.<p>

Exhaling, she takes a step forward. Surprisingly, after that first step, a step she's never taken before, it's easier.

She reaches the seventh year's room, rereading the door's sign just to be sure.

Often times, Lavender wonders what it's like inside their dormitory. She has this mental image that it's chaotic, smelly, and plain unsanitary, but surprisingly, it's orderly, smell's a bit musky (not too much to be considered odorous, really), and it looks just like the girl's dormitory. Except the fact that they're less meticulous in fixing their beds.

The room's almost empty; a good thing because Lavender wouldn't want to be caught inside the men's sleeping quarters–she'd fie first.

Seamus is snoozing in his bed. Lavender restrains herself the desire to wipe that serene look in his face. She decides that it's better to just giggle at how childish his face looks.

Seamus stirs, and opens his eyes. And it's then that he realizes that he's staring at a pair of pale blue eyes.

"Lav?" it's her nickname, one that irks her so much because it sounds a lot like 'luv' with his accent.

"You're late." She says, taking a seat at the foot of his bed.

The Irish man sits up and scratches his head in embarrassment. "Sorry." And it surprises her that he's not his usual egotistical self.

Lavender tries to suppress the urge to giggle; who knew Seamus was a total puppy when he's just woken up? And the fact that he's in his pajamas makes him more… _cuter_. An impossibility for men where he came from.

"I'll wait for you downstairs." she says, standing up. It's really bad when you irritate a newly awakened person. Seamus merely nods and stumbles up from his bed. He grabs a towel and heads to the nearby bathroom.

When Seamus closes the door, Lavender was about to exit the room when she hears a moan. It's not so much weird, if it wasn't for the fact that it sounded feminine. She walks to where it came from, touches the drapes around the four-postern bed, and yanks it open. She gasps when she sees the two least-expecting people together.

Hermione was asleep beside Harry Potter.

Not just that.

Harry Potter is spooning Hermione Granger.

His head was resting on top of her, and she has her hand intertwined with his. Lavender notices that Harry's snuggling closer to her, and Hermione can't help but tighten her grip on his hand.

Normally, she would've cooed, but, there's this level of intimacy that made her feel like an intruder.

"Weird, isn't it?" A voice asks. It's Seamus, and she hears his footsteps. "You'd think that it's with Ron that she'll cozy up with."

Lavender's aware that Ron and Hermione weren't together anymore. In fact, she witnessed it, along with the entire school, last month. And by the looks of things, it'll get more complicated.

"What're they doing here?" Lavender asks, because Harry and Hermione are Head Boy and Head Girl respectively, and that they have a tower to themselves.

Seamus shrugs, "Harry bunks here at least twice a week. Tells us that he doesn't want to get detached from his housemates."

She nods, "Hermione does that too." And then it everything clicks in place; how Hermione would sleep in their dorms and be gone by morning. How Lavender always felt that leaving presence when she's asleep. While Hermione's always been an early bird, lately (or after the war), she's a bit… looser. Which is a good thing because it makes Hermione more human.

"What does Ron think?" It's in the past, and she's moved on, still, she's curious.

"Do you really want me to elaborate?" He taunts. Lavender has an idea, granted, it paints Ronald in a bad light, but still it felt plausible. Besides, gossipmonger she might be, it's Hermione we're talking about–she's not about to talk ill of her friend. "I don't think I want to know." She looks at their sleeping forms, "But I'm happy for them."

Good thing for Hermione too because (and even if Lavender herself dated the guy) his kisses taste like roast beef, mash, and gravy. Not a good taste when you're kissing your boyfriend. Plus, he's a terrible kisser; one who would literally _devour_ your face–and not in the good way.

"C'mon." Seamus says, placing a hand on her shoulder. "Let's go."

She nods, and follows Seamus' lead. Come to think of it, if Hermione's going to end with someone, best it be with the guy that's perfect for her–Harry. Screw Ginny, she's Team Hermione!


End file.
